The ode of the YuppieWatch
Is it sad that I have love of my Prada?
That I have enough Gucci to sink the Armada?
That my wrists are adorned with Cartier flair?
And I have Swarovski crystals a way through my hair?
Is it so bad that I crave Dior gold?
Or a pair of Manolo Blahniks to have and to hold?
Am I so vein because I adore my Versache?
And feel so attached to my hoard of Givenchy?
That I adore Donna Karan and Sophia Loren?
That id strive all my might to be as wealthy as them?
Or all in my dreams that remains to be seen
Are couture and gowns by Alexander McQueen?
Am I so posh because I like Vera Wang?
Or without Valentino I might as well hang?
Because my world would end without some Escada?
Because I cant live with out my Bhargava?
Is it right to debase my beautiful face?
Or that I pride my Armani above human race?
Or that I think Galliano is not a nut case?
Is it so bad that I miss when im gone,
A pink leather bag by Yves Saint Laurent?
That I crave Chanel earrings and a Vuitton purse?
That my life without them would be considerably worse?
I tell you my friends something that’s hearty,
The price of a scarf by Stella Mc Cartney.
That Dolce & Gabbana light up my day,
Like the fur of a kitten in the very same way.
This my friends is a call to you all,
Telling you we are no trip to the mall
Saying that vanity is no bargain at all.
This is in fact a solemn ode,
To the beautiful people and their lavish abodes.
The call of the narcissus; the bawl of the yuppie.